What's your Poison?
by xGHOST69
Summary: Harley Quinn is taken to the Arkham Asylum and is surprised to find herself spill out her guts and talking about her life to an intern there, much like she was with her puddin’ the first time they met… JokerHarley and a bit of HarleyPoison. Rated M.
1. Life has a sense of humour

**What's Your Poison?**

**Summary:**  
Harley Quinn is taken to the Arkham Asylum and is surprised to find herself spill out her guts and talking about her life to an intern there, much like she was with her puddin' the first time they met… JokerHarley and a bit of HarleyPoison.

** Disclaimer: I don't own Batman, the Joker, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, or any DC characters, or the plot, since I am only following the comics, but I am adding some twists to adjust to the movie. However, I do own Lucy Hart, and her story. Also, the whole concept of this story.**

**A/N: Yeah I know, I'm taking more than I can chew, but this idea has been eating me since it popped into my head. I hardly ever do canon characters with anything, but Harley Quinn is my favourite female character out of anything, and I love her with Joker and Poison Ivy.**

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**Chapter one: Life has a sense of humour**

This wasn't like any Asylum she had been to. On many levels Arkham Asylum was so much more extreme than the other mental institutions Lucy Hart had been to. For starters, the most obvious reason is that it holds the most notorious villains of all Gotham City. Some of which she used to be terrified of before she started to study psychology. Another reason was what she now witnessed. The rooms weren't ordinary rooms, but looked like to the best of their capabilities of being comfy and high-tech. They weren't in padded rooms, but the wall dividing their rooms to the hallway was thick glass, so doctors and nurses were able to see what patients were doing, in case one might escape.

"This is the woman's ward," pointed out the nurse Lucy had been shadowing all day. "We used to keep all the patients in the same ward, but things got a little hectic."

Lucy nodded, understanding, "No privacy for the girls, what with all the guys watching."

The nurse shook her head, "No, the girls were encouraging it," she gave a little laugh as they continued on.

The tour continued on, with the nurse telling varies stories, mainly those of which people have escaped. Though this did not intimidated Lucy, as she realized the Nurse was trying to do. Instead, this excited her. Arkham would be much more interesting than St. Francis' Mental Institution in Essex, New York.

"I was talking to Dr. Arkham, and he wants you to start with someone in the woman's ward. Now I understand that you've dealt with women who have Post Partum Depression, as well as Suicide Watch, am I correct?"

Lucy nodded, pushing up her thick-rimmed glasses up her nose, "And I have nursed a 19 year old with Chronic Schizophrenia."

"Oh yes, the Darlington case," the nurse nodded, "That's why Dr. Arkham demanded you. Your communications skills are outstanding."

Lucy blushed, not very comfortable around compliments, "It was only a matter of making sure she trusted me, is all."

The nurse smiled at her modesty. "Which is exactly what we need. Someone the patients could trust. It seems that no one trusts our doctors or nurses. And you shouldn't be so modest, Miss Hart. Having a Chronic Schizophrenic talk is one of the best accomplishments a psychiatrist could have. Especially since you have only been in the field for such a short period of time."

Lucy smiled genuinely proud. She never thought she accomplished a lot. Since her career of choice was being a psychiatrist, she didn't think that getting a few works from a patient was much of accomplishment. Not like curing the girl's schizophrenia over all, or even convincing her that it was all in her head.

She hoped, upon working at Arkham, that she might "save" one of these mass murderers, or criminals, so they can walk down the street with a straight head and a second chance at living a normal life. But, Lucy had a feeling that many doctors and nurses that worked here wanted that, so chances are that she succeeds are slim.

The nurse's voice snapped Miss Hart out of her thoughts. "Hm, I think I'll put you with Miss Quinzel. She has been depressed since she arrived."

Lucy blinked. Miss Quinzel? She hadn't recognized that name, ever. It was certainly not a name of one of the villains that Batman had faced, well, not one she could remember.

"Miss Quinzel?"

The nurse nodded, and smiled knowingly. "Miss Harleen Quinzel, otherwise known as Harley Quinn."

That was name that Lucy recognized. She knew it well. After all, she remembered herself being under the thumb of one of the Joker's disgusting ideas of a joke.

From what she could remember, Harley Quinn had just recently had taken into Arkham. For about the 5th or so time, since she kept on being released, or escaping.

"All we got from her was she was like a mirror image of the Joker, if he would be female," The nurse shrugged, handing over Harley's personal file. "We want you to see if there is anything left of Harleen Quinzel in her. Dig to her core, and see why she is so obsessed with the Joker."

Lucy nodded as she flipped through the file. "Find the root, and move up from there," she added. "But why don't you think she was already on this route to begin with? Why do you think the Joker is the cause of it?"

The nurse began to lead to way to Lucy's office, "Because," she began, "Harley was once Dr. Harleen Quinzel here at Arkham. In fact," the nurse turned to look at Lucy, "she was an intern, and her first patient was the Joker."

This all sounded very familiar. Lucy was an intern, and her first patient was the female counterpart of the Joker. Life certainly had a sense of humour.

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**A/n: So, this was the first chapter. Just wanted you to get an idea of the plot and how it will start. So yeah, this is a bit of a slash story, but the Joker plays a main role in Quinn's romance. Next chapter Harley will be in it, no questions asked. Also, I'd like to point out that my Joker, and Harley, may be a bit cartoon-ish at times, this is because I've been watching the animated series a lot, for research purposes, but the Joker's character in the animated series is much more different as to Heath Ledger's.**


	2. Candy

**What's Your Poison?**

**Summary:**  
Harley Quinn is taken to the Arkham Asylum and is surprised to find herself spill out her guts and talking about her life to an intern there, much like she was with her puddin' the first time they met… JokerHarley and a bit of HarleyPoison.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Batman, the Joker, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, or any DC characters, or the plot, since I am only following the comics, but I am adding some twists to adjust to the movie. However, I do own Lucy Hart, and her story. Also, the whole concept of this story.**

** A/N: Yeah I know, I'm taking more than I can chew, but this idea has been eating me since it popped into my head. I hardly ever do canon characters with anything, but Harley Quinn is my favourite female character out of anything, and I love her with Joker and Poison Ivy.**

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**Chapter Two: Candy**

Today was the day that Lucy would have her session with Harley Quinn. She spent 3 weeks reading her personal files, medical examinations, and reading on articles where she was mentioned or appeared. One that peaked Lucy's interest was titled, "The New Queens of Crime!" with a picture of her and her female partner, Poison Ivy.

The reason why this peaked Lucy's interest, was because this was probably the only time that she is aware about of Harley Quinn being willingly away from the Joker.

Dr. Hart walked briskly down the hallway of the wards, passing by the men's, noting that the Joker wasn't amongst them. So, Lucy thought, they hadn't caught him. This would probably effect Harley no doubt, what with the thought that she is trapped here, and not out there with the Joker.

Finally she got to the Woman's ward. Usually Lucy was never nervous about things like this, but for some reason this made her heart race. Was it because she was a famous villainess? Was it the possibility that she herself would turn insane, as Harley had been?

She hoped not. She rather her have an impression on Quinn, not the other way around.

The intern stopped at Harley's room, the large plate glass had been blocked, giving Lucy and Harley privacy from other patients. However, there were still cameras inside, to ensure that Quinn didn't try anything frisky. But there was no audio, so in a sense, Lucy and Harley had some privacy at least.

Lucy pulled out her key and slid it into the lock. Twisting it, she opened the door in the process. Upon entry, she saw two individuals inside. One, was a body guard, standing rigidly up against the wall that used to be the plate glass. The other, was laying sprawled on the bed in the corner. Due to the light not being near her, Lucy couldn't make out her face. But she knew that had to be Harley.

The intern motioned to the guard that he could leave. He nodded and exited through the door, then Lucy locked it from the inside, so Harley couldn't make a dash towards the door and escape. Pocketing the key, Hart walked over to the table that was in the center of the room and sat down on the chair provided.

"Good morning, Miss Quinn, I'm Dr. Hart. I'll be taking Dr. Bones' place, and will do your weekly sessions. Does that sound good?"

No response.

That didn't kill Lucy's buzz, she was used to listening to silent replies. Shifting in her seat, Dr. Hart pulled out a clipboard and a pen, as well as her hand bag.

"Do you want me to come over there, instead?"

Again, no response. Harley wasn't a chronic, and from what she heard, the Harlequin woman was a very talkative person. So, Lucy's small little theory was that Harley was just messing around with the new doctor. Hart wouldn't be surprised if she heard some word going around how Lucy could charm Monks into talking and breaking their vow of silence.

So, Lucy came prepared.

She picked up her handbag and placed it on the table, "I've got goodies."

"Goodies?!" Lucy hears a squeal as the body sprawled on the bed sprang into life and made a jump for the table. The doctor made a quick move to grab the bag before the patient could get to it, and held it behind her back.

"Ah, these are for you, only if you're good."

Lucy saw the girl pout, crossing her arms and legs Indian-style on top of the table. "Typical," Harley spat, huffing , "There's always a catch to somethin'." The patient crawled down from the table and sat down obediently in the chair.

Dr. Hart smiled, both at her adorable Brooklyn accent, and that she got the girl to talk, as well as sit down at the chair in front of her.

"Here," Lucy reached into her bag, and pulled out a very large spiral lollipop.

"Yay!" The former doctor leapt over the table once again and snatched the oversized candy without so much as a thank you.

As Harley unwrapped it, and began to lick at it like a little child that hasn't had candy for most of their short life, Lucy examined how she looked like. There were a lot of things that made you stare at Harley in awe. Her hair was a shocking white-blond, but at the roots Lucy was able to see a hint of light brown roots. Her eyes were the purest blue colour that the intern has seen in a while. Her body was petite, but muscular, giving the hint that despite her size she was very athletic. Lucy wasn't surprised, though, since she remembers Quinn on the news, how she jumps and cartwheels herself around a room. Though the most blatant attribute on her were those scars. They were so much like the Joker's infamous ones, but different in their own way. They weren't curved into smile. They were just straight lines coming from ends of her mouth. The flesh was a bit red, so it was safe to say that they were fairly fresh. Probably about 3 to 4 months old after the scabs have been pealed off. But there was something much more different about her scars. Dots were outlining them, which meant that she, or someone else had attempted to sew them closed with cheap material.

"How did you get those scars?" Lucy asked before she could stop herself.

Harley paused in mid-lick. She looked up at her new doctor through her eyelashes, and Lucy could see a flash of pain behind them. But then Harley looked down.

"That's a bit of a… long story," Harley admitted, her voice low and vulnerable.

Lucy nodded, deciding this may not be right moment, "Alright. If you don't want to talk about it then we can--"

"Eh!" Harley shouted, which caught the intern off guard. "Who said I don' wanna talk about it?"

"Oh, I'm sorry… You just looked so distressed that I thought--"

"Well, you thought wrong! See, it all went down like this…"

That was when Harley told a story about an abusive ex boyfriend her mother had. One thing led to another, and somehow the story ended up with Harley saving a basket of kittens.

A sigh escaped Quinn's mouth, as she rested her chin on her fist, and licked the lollipop absentmindedly. "That didn't sound too convincing, did it?"

A small smile appeared on Lucy's lips as she shook her head 'no'.

"I was never good at that," Harley said, glancing at her new doctor with a depressed look.

"What do you mean?" Lucy asked, tapping her pen on the board before she scribbled down some note to start off the day.

"Makin' up stories! Mister J was the best at it," She shrugged her shoulders and leaned back into the chair, "All of the other doctor's couldn't get a word outta me about what happened. What makes you so different?"

Dr. Hart considered this. It was a true statement, what made her so different than the rest? The rest just wanted to examine her, see what is wrong, give her some pills but having no intention of letting her out. After all, they've done that before, and that did the complete opposite, didn't it? The more Lucy thought about it, the more she realized that the doctors here at Arkham weren't trying to cure these criminals so they could walk out of here a new person. No, this was more of a prison than a hospital.

Lucy put down her pen and clipboard, face down, then she folded her hands on her lap and looked at Harley straight in the eye, "Because I will listen."

Harley Quinn matched her serious expression, looking back with as much intensity. "Do you really wanna know how my life got all loony toons?"

Lucy nodded, "I do."

"I'll tell ya, only if you give me a chocolate bar to go with this," Harley raised the rainbow spiral candy and sucked on the top like a toddler.

The intern couldn't help herself but crack a smile. She was just so adorable, despite the fact that she was older than herself. Lucy grabbed her hand bag and dug through, that was when she found her pocket tape recorder. If she couldn't take notes, she might as well record the conversation so she could listen to it later -- It wasn't betraying Harley's trust. If Lucy truly needed to understand where Harley was coming from, she had to hang to every word she said, and that meant listen it more than twice.

Putting her hand bag back on the table, Lucy pulled out a Mars* bar and handed it to the oversized kid. Taking it greedily, Harley took a large bite out of it and chewed until her mouth was free.

She swallowed and then opened her mouth, "Batman."

Lucy blinked, "Batman…?"

"Yes, Batman. He's the one to blame! It's always been Batman! Ruinin' my life, spoilin' my fun!" The patient was starting to get angry, shifting in her seat, and taking violent bites from the innocent candy bar. But then, all of a sudden she just melted back into the chair, chin on the table.

"Coming in between me and my puddin' from the very beginning'…"

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**A/N: Well there, the story begins from there. The POV's will change in each chapter. Like two in every three chapters will be in Harley's POV. Also, as for my POTC story, I'm going to put it on a slight hold, since my computer crashed, taking the chapter I was writing with it. So once I collect back all my ideas and my muse is awake for that one, I'll update it. I already have half the chapter done, I just need to do the rest. **

**Overlordofnobodies: I already have plans for Lucy :P I can honestly say that this story will have a sequel ^^**


	3. I see Chelsea's Grin

**What's your Poison?**

**Summary:  
**Harley Quinn is taken to the Arkham Asylum and is surprised to find herself spill out her guts and talking about her life to an intern there, much like she was with her puddin' the first time they met… JokerHarley and a bit of HarleyPoison.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Batman, the Joker, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, or any DC characters, or the plot, since I am only following the comics, but I am adding some twists to adjust to the movie. However, I do own Lucy Hart, and her story. Also, the whole concept of this story. **

**A/N: Yeah I know, I'm taking more than I can chew, but this idea has been eating me since it popped into my head. I hardly ever do canon characters with anything, but Harley Quinn is my favourite female character out of anything, and I love her with Joker and Poison Ivy. **

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**Chapter Three: I see Chelsea's Grin**

Seven years ago the Joker played with the strings of citizens of Gotham for the first time; he tested their morality and their love and trust with their fellow man. The Joker has no morals himself, so it's hard to fathom the reason he threaten the lives of thousands of innocent lives.

In a investigation, they search for a motive, which would give them a lead to who could've done the crime. But the Joker was terrifying not because of his motive, but because of his lack of one.

He did it for the shits and giggles. And it was Harleen Quinzel that truly understood why he did it. In fact, she understood a little too well to the point where it changed her personality and thoughts.

"Dr. Harleen Quinzel, I'm Joan Leland. I must admit, I was surprised that you were accepted to intern here at Arkham," Joan confessed, shacking the blonde's hand before they started their trek down the hall towards the wards.

The young intern looked at her new peer with an arched eyebrow, "Why is that, Joan?"

"Well," The elder started, shifting her clipboard from one arm to the other, "Arkham is very high profile. It usually takes years of experience to be accepted."

Harleen looked down at her shoes. She knew this fact, but how she got into Arkham wasn't going to be information she would want anyone to find out. Yes, Miss Quinzel did sleep with Dr. Arkham. But she was desperate for money.

About 7 months ago, Harleen Quinzel was due to be married. Her mother had left her a hefty amount of money before she died, so she would be able to spend the money on her wedding, and get herself a place to live with her fiancé. It was only a few months before she would be done with school, so the money helped her out greatly. Though, she spent it more on him than anything else. It was safe to say that Harleen was totally in love with him. He was responsible, caring, and treated her like gold. But one day, things changed. Harleen woke up to a empty apartment, her fiancé no where to be seen. He packed his clothing, as well as all the very expensive things that she had bought for him. She was played like a violin.

It was then that the blonde made a pact with herself that she would not let herself fall for another man ever again. Boy was she ever wrong.

Snapping herself out of these thoughts, she turned to Joan, "I had to work hard for this position. It wasn't easy."

The doctor nodded, "What made you want to intern here, of all places?"

"Well, I've always had an attraction to extreme personalities. They're much more interesting to work with."

That was when Joan stopped dead on her trail, "You must know, Miss Quinzel, these are hard core psychotics."

"I realize that, doctor. I wouldn't have come if I knew I wasn't prepared," she replied back, placing a hand on her hip.

"I'm just warning you -- these patients will eat you alive."

That was when the doors flew open from down the hall. Loud laughs and grunts bounced off the walls. Two guards came in dragging a man by the shoulders of his straight jacket. The man was a total mess in Harleen's eyes. His hair was cheaply died green -- probably with Halloween hairspray -- and his face was a sweaty mess of white, black and red. He was bare footed, but he used that to his advantage as he tried to use them to grip onto the floor. As they dragged him closer, what she saw was both intriguing and horrifying. A large Chelsea Grin carved at the ends of his mouth in a menacing smile.

The new intern's eyes only flickered away once as she noticed that the 3 men passed them, that was when the laughter faltered and black eyes caught her blue ones in a intense stare. It was a stare that clearly said that he was hungry -- hungry for what, she wasn't sure if she wanted to know.

After what felt like an eternity, the laughing man and his captors disappeared around the corner. But Harley was still frozen in her spot.

Joan stepped in front of her a bit smug, "Finally intimated?"

Quinzel snapped out of her daze and shook her head, "Not in the least. Was that who I thought it was?"

The fellow doctor nodded, "The Joker, yes, that's him. He was caught hanging upside down that day, with the bombs and the boats. Yesterday they declared he was too dangerous to be put in a regular prison," Joan shrugged, "Besides, it's blatantly obvious that he belongs in a mental institution."

All Harley heard was "The Joker. Caught hanging upside down. Too Dangerous. Obvious Mental."

"So, no one is assigned to him yet?"

Dr. Leland shook her head, "Dr. Arkham has been asking everyone who is willing, but the rumours about what he can do shakes most of us up. No one is willing -- Arkham might even do it himself."

The rest of the day Joan showed Harley the rest of the facility. The rooms were private, padded and white. The doors made from thick steal, making it look incredibly uncomfortable, claustrophobic, and bleak. The wards weren't divided by gender, so Harley was a bit put off by this. For a hospital, this place did not care much about their patient's well being. This was more of a prison than a hospital.

*** * ***

The next day, Harleen made a bee-line to Dr. Arkham's office. She thought about it the entire night. Knowing that no one wanted to treat the Joker, and she, the ambitious intern was on the fence. She did her very best to convince herself to take the opportunity.

"Do you realize how much this could benefit you, Harleen?" She told herself.

"Yeah, I know, but he's the Joker… A maniac, a criminal, a sociopath. Who knows what he could do by just talking to me?"

"Stop being such a pussy, Harl. Do you really want to sleep with every boss you ever work with just so you can land a fucking job?"

"No, I won't reduce myself down to that anymore," She said out loud when she reached the empty hall where Arkham's office was.

The Boston girl shut her eyes as she reached the door. Flashes from her memory of Arkham's pale wrinkly body and his thin lips popped in her head. God, she couldn't believe she had done that. She was defiantly not reducing herself to that again.

Deep breath. Back straight. Raise chin. Alright, time to knock.

"Come in," She heard a voice come from the other side. Dr. Quinzel turned the knob and welcomed herself in. The first thing she saw was the oh-so familiar large mahogany desk with the equally as large black leather chair. Oh God, that chair. Everything was on the desk, but from her memory, they were all laying on their side on the floor. The pencil holder, sharpener, stapler, hole puncher, papers, pens, his picture of his wife. Everything.

"Oh, Miss Quinzel, how lovely it is to see you," Dr. Arkham smiled up at her, as if nothing ever happened between the two. This actually both irritated Harleen and made her feel more calm at the same time.

"What can I do for you?" He leaned back into his chair, making that terrible squeak she remembered all too well. "Already wanting to resign?"

Harleen bridged her eyebrows. Why was everyone assuming that she was being intimidated by the patients here? Now that made her a little angry. They obviously thought that she was a little vulnerable blonde… No, she will prove herself. She will show these doctors that she is capable of working here without fear or intimidation. Harleen Quinzel was sick and tired of people treating her like a fucking little girl.

"No," She said flatly, back now rigidly straight. "I came here to tell you that I want to take on the Joker."

They way she said it was clear that she meant business. In her eyes anyway. But for Dr. Arkham, it sounded like she was a little girl playing dress up with a physiatrist costume.

"You can't be serious," he laughed. "No one wants to take the Joker. He's my case… And you're telling me that an intern such as yourself wants to take him on?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying," Harleen had to stop herself from saying it through gritted teeth.

He laughed again, but hesitated, "You are serious, aren't you? Harley, this is huge. You are just not ready for something like this--"

That's it, she just had it. She slammed her palms on the desk right in front of him, "Listen, Arkham. I have been studying psychosis since I was 16 years old. I spent 6 years in college and university in Boston, and got my master's. I spent another year in the Twin Towers, the largest Mental institution in the country, much larger than your so-call asylum--"

"Harley, your accent--"

"I am not done!" She cut him off, "I dealt with people that have schizophrenia to personality disorders. I walked through the garden with a little boy that killed his mother and sister because he thought all women were sent from the devil, thanks to his fuckin' father. After all that, I do not appreciate it when some fuck-nut tells me I'm not ready. And I think the press would love to know how Gotham's favourite psychiatrist chooses his female doctors."

"You wouldn't dare, Harl--" Dr. Arkham said lowly, a shocked look on his aging face.

"Just try me. And Don't call me Harley."

There was a long pause before that retched squeak from the chair broke the silence as the older doctor bent down under the desk and pulled out a file from a box and slapped it on the desk. It was thick and messy with news paper clippings. There on top clipped on the ear of the folder was a black and white picture of him, the Joker.

"You've got a month to prepare," he told her, his expression serious.

Harleen smiled satisfied as she reached for the file, but then his large wrinkled hand clasped hers forcing her to look at him. "If you mess this up, Miss Quinzel, your internship is terminated."

She just smiled easily, wretched her hand from his and walked towards the door. Once she was just outside the threshold, she looked back at him, "Trust me, within the year, I'll know him more than he knows himself."

And with that, Dr. Harleen Quinzel left the office.

**

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A/N: ALRIGHT! Finally done chapter 3! Took me a while, as you can see. I had to re write this chapter, because I was going to do it as if Harley was talking, but her accent was driving me crazy. So Third Point of View it is… Also, I just realized that she doesn't have a Brooklyn accent, it's a Boston accent. I get those two mixed up all the time. So, sorry about that. Also, I made up a lot of crap in this chapter, like her back story, and her education, because there is no information of where she came from. None that I can find anyway. Oh, I also wanted to know if anyone knows the Joker's real name? Like, from the movies, they say it's Jack. But in the comic and Cartoon, it's unknown. All I know is the Creeper's name is Jack, sooo, iunno, maybe people get mixed up. Well, if you know for sure, just tell me. And yes, this chapter is inspired by "Mad Love"

**Laurentaylor14: Thanks ^^, and yeah, I realized that NOW that's not her accent. It's Boston. And not a lot of people in Gotham sound like that, her accent is more exaggerated than most. So, I decided to make her originally from Boston. And it's okay, I have everything planned for Harley, her past and all that. I like to use my own ideas, otherwise I wouldn't be a good writer if I took other people's… **

**Overlordofnobodies: Don't worry, I won't say any specifics. I'm just saying, I have a lot planned out for her, and Harley, in the sequel. **


	4. Who You Are

**What's your Poison?**

**Summary:  
**Harley Quinn is taken to the Arkham Asylum and is surprised to find herself spill out her guts and talking about her life to an intern there, much like she was with her puddin' the first time they met… JokerHarley and a bit of HarleyPoison.

**Disclaimer:**** I don't own Batman, the Joker, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, or any DC characters, or the plot, since I am only following the comics, but I am adding some twists to adjust to the movie. However, I do own Lucy Hart, and her story. Also, the whole concept of this story. **

**A/N: Yeah I know, I'm taking more than I can chew, but this idea has been eating me since it popped into my head. I hardly ever do canon characters with anything, but Harley Quinn is my favourite female character out of anything, and I love her with Joker and Poison Ivy.**

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**Chapter Four: Who you are**

A month passed, and Harley was ready. Days of poring over newspaper articles and her college text books. She even stared at pictures of the Joker to see if she could see any weakness behind his dark eyes. No, all she could see was pure madness. Who knew black-brown was the colour of insanity.

Yes, she was nervous. Even though she was fully prepared, it didn't feel right. Like she was forgetting to do something; she read all the articles, even went through the archives. Tried to look for any accidents that potentially could be relating to how the Joker got his scars. Domestic violence. Suicide attempts. Gang fights. Anything!

Harley traced back in the archives over 30 years, and found nothing. In the Joker's personal file, it didn't show how old he was – for all she knew, he could be 40 – so it was particularly hard to find any news papers to see if they mentioned anything, or had pictures. It was like he rose from the 9th level of Hell.

So she had no background information on her patient. Before she could really do anything, she had to do just that – ask him about his family and where he came from. Oh Jesus, that's what she forgot!

Harley was standing in front of the Joker's door when she realized that she had forgotten to write down questions to ask him.

"Fuck," she whispered to herself.

So, she pretty much failed on the very first day. But she couldn't turn around, that would just show that she is just another weak woman trying to take on big things.

Inhaling some air, Harley unlocked the door and walked in. There he was sitting on the couch, face cleaned of make up. He actually looked quite handsome without make up. His eyes didn't look so dark and menacing; they were a light brown, almost hazel. As her eyes traveled his face, the scars across his cheeks didn't look so malevolent any more. It was amazing how much make up could make you look. Though everything looked pretty much the same; hair greasy and green and looking like he hadn't ran a comb through it in the past year. The man was expressionless as he looked up at the two guards on either side of the couch. He was sitting on the very centre cushion bounded in a straight jacket and sitting Indian style. The clown hadn't even notice Harley come in until the two guards nodded at the intern and walked up to her.

"You guys aren't staying?" Harley asked trying to hide her nervousness.

One of them shook their head, "He won't do anything when there's someone in the room, especially with that jacket on."

"He would just get distracted with us here," the other one added.

Harley took a quick look around the room, "No cameras?"

Again, they shook their heads, "Dr. Arkham tried that last week, but the freak wouldn't say anything. So, his theory was that maybe he wouldn't talk with cameras around."

"Or he just wants to kill me," Harley commented to herself about Dr. Arkham. "Alright, thanks guys."

They nodded and exited the door, locking it behind them.

This couldn't be safe at all.

It was very quiet in the room all of a sudden, but inside her head, Harley was screaming. What had she gotten herself into?

The eerie silence was then broke when the Joker decided to be the first person to say something. "Aren't you, uh, gonna sit down?" He nodded towards the one vacant chair that was positioned just in front of the couch.

"Oh! Oh, yeah, yes, I am," She sat down feeling incredibly embarrassed. Way to make a first impression, Har. Shuffling through her papers, the intern felt incredibly uncomfortable under his critical stare.

"I'm Doctor Harleen Quinzel," She introduced herself, "How about we start off with the basic. Uh, what's your name?" She felt stupid for asking this, but she knows nothing about his name other than the Joker.

"Joker," was his simple answer as he inspected her with very dark eyes.

"Your birth name…"

"Harleen Quinzel," he said aloud, which she took as offense a bit for mocking her, but he followed with something else. "Sounds a lot like Harlequin," he licked his bottom lip, and then pursed them; "I bet you hear that a lot."

"I heard it once. From my mom, but other than that, I don't think people are smart enough to get that," she responded, feeling she got comfortable enough to speak to him. "But we're not talking about me, we're talking about –"

"No, we're not," He interrupted, raising his eyebrow and looking at her through his lashes, "we're talking about your name."

"But we already established my name. I want to know yours."

"I said my name was the Joker," he said, rolling his tongue around in his mouth.

"Yes, I understand that, but I want to know your birth name," Harley was getting already tired of this game, and it has barely been five minutes.

"And what will that do, hm?"

Dr. Quinzel shifted in her seat, not quite knowing how she was going to answer that question. "Well – because, it will tell me who you are," she finally replied.

"No, no, no, see," he shook his head, and leaned in a little more, as much as the jacket would let him. "Your name doesn't tell people who you are. Your parents gave you that name when you were a baby, not knowing at all what kind of person you will be. A kid could be named Adolf and be the nicest kid in the playground – a name doesn't justify who you are—unless you give it to yourself."

People said that he was crazy – a lunatic, a mad man, a psycho, a serial killer – but at that moment, Harleen Quinzel didn't see him that way. What he said actually made sense to her.

"Joker," she corrected herself as she watched him lean back on the couch and nod. "I'm assuming that if I asked your age you're not going to tell me?"

"You assu~med corr~ect-uh," he clicked his tongue. He looked around his bland and depressing room, "So, tell me, Dr. Quin_zel_, why did you get into all of," he motioned his eyes around the room indicating the whole thing with criminal minds, "this."

"I've always had an attraction for extreme personalities," she repeated her answer from the beginning of this month with Dr. Leland.

"I'm hurt," he faked that emotion, "You're just using me to write some tell-all book."

Harley's eyes widened and she quickly turned into defense mode, "No, no, no! I swear to you, I'm only here to help—"

"I don't think I could trust someone that is just going to write my personal life into a book for everyone to see."

She felt really bad. She didn't mean to make it out that she was untrustworthy. In fact, she had no idea how that even started. But, without trust, she couldn't ever break through with any patient. Harleen felt an over whelming urge to give up, and she even made that clear when she grabbed her bag and tucked her papers under her shoulder.

"Where you goin'?"

"To Dr. Arkham," she replied, sitting up, "To tell him I made a mistake, I don't think I'm ready for this—"

She was just making her way towards the door when the Joker cut her off once again, but this time with a simple word, "Jack."

Harley stopped in her tracks, her hand on the doorknob and hesitating before asking, "Pardon?"

"My name…My name is Jack," he looked up at her, and then shifted his eyes awkwardly. Shrugging he added, "You wanted to know."

"But why…" Harley's words traveled, really confused. He didn't want her to found out his name, she suspected that by his stalling. But, why the change of mind?

"Look, Doc," He scrambled trying to pull himself off the couch, but it proved hard without arms pushing you up. "A lil' help?" He looked at her a little annoyed. Harley nodded and walked towards the bounded man and helped him up. He stood at least 6 inches taller than her, and due to the fact that he was so close Harleen felt so small and weak. Weak because he was a psychotic murderer and that his dark hazel eyes held her blue ones with an intense stare her knees wobbled.

"I've heard a lot about you, especially from the male doctors," The Joker whispered lowering his head almost down to her eye level, but still looking down on her all the same. He licked the side of his mouth and continued, "and there's something about you, I 'dunno, it's probably that name of yours, it makes me feel connected to you. Like someone that I could," he swallowed and barely said the rest of the sentence above a whisper, "tell my secrets to…"

Doctor Quinzel's eyes were wide and were glued on his own. His face was so straight and serious that it was hard to believe that he was lying. He couldn't be, right?

"I'd like to know that I, uh, could trust you not to tell anyone my real name… Can I trust you, Doctor Quin_zel_-uh?"

Harley swallowed suddenly finding it rather hard to speak. She nodded, and with a small voice she said, "Yes, yes you can."

"And will you trust me?"

After a hesitation of just swimming through his eyes, and founding no sign of lies, she said "Yes."

The Joker's lips spread into a wide grin.

* * *

**a/n: I want to apologize for taking so long. The reason for this is a long story, so I'll make it short. I broke my sister's laptop, which had the next chapter in it, and I haven't converted her hard drive yet, and my old computer which was originally broken, as it turns out that hard drive was fried so everything has been deleted. I got a new Macbook, though, so YAY! But, yeah, the bummer is all my stories and chapters are gone, so there will be a delay on this story, and the Pirates one. I am also already plotting the Sequel to this story and a Semi Sequel to this story also. I won't give any details though. **

**Overlordofnobodies:**** Yeah, I know. It's hard to make an H/J Origin more unique than the rest. That's why I wanted to add my own characters and perspective. **


	5. The Sad Clown

**What's your Poison?**

**Summary:  
**Harley Quinn is taken to the Arkham Asylum and is surprised to find herself spill out her guts and talking about her life to an intern there, much like she was with her puddin' the first time they met… JokerHarley and a bit of HarleyPoison.

**Disclaimer:**** I don't own Batman, the Joker, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, or any DC characters, or the plot, since I am only following the comics, but I am adding some twists to adjust to the movie. However, I do own Lucy Hart, and her story. Also, the whole concept of this story. **

**A/N: Yeah I know, I'm taking more than I can chew, but this idea has been eating me since it popped into my head. I hardly ever do canon characters with anything, but Harley Quinn is my favourite female character out of anything, and I love her with Joker and Poison Ivy. **

**Chapter Five: The Sad Clown  
**

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A week passed since she had her first session with the Joker. Though her sessions were weekly, it felt like the next session couldn't come any sooner. She didn't know how it happened, or how long it actually took, but something told Harley that she was able to do this, that maybe she was the person to actually make an insane man sane. And not just any man.

She made a vow to herself and her patient that she wouldn't tell a soul, even her boss, Dr. Arkham, after he asked what had happened. She simply said that he didn't want to stay on topic and tried to change the subject every time he was cornered. Harley did lie, and planned on lying more about her progress. She would give Arkham what he wanted to hear, and keep the truth to herself until the Joker could be declared legally sane – which no doubt will take the longest time.

It was finally Monday, the weekly day that she has her sessions with the Clown Prince of Crime. However, this time she was ready with questions in her mind, note pad and pen at hand and feeling totally confidant talking to him. Dr. Quinzel was ready for anything he threw at her.

Allowing the guards to take their leave, she sat down on the same exact chair in front of the couch, and looked up to see him in the exact same spot as last Monday. It was like he never moved.

"Good afternoon, Jac—" she stopped herself upon realizing that she was just about to use his real name without his permission. She tried to avoid his eyes, which spoke for themselves with, "Don't you dare." Quickly thinking she corrected herself, "I mean, Mr. J."

This seemed to please him since his eyes eased and he leaned back against the couch. "Goo~d Afternoon, Harlee~n Quinz~el-uh," he tossed around his tongue in his mouth as if he was moving around a piece of gum. "I like your, uh, hair. Is it a natural blonde?"

Harley blinked at the random question, though she was flattered that he complimented her. "Yes, and thank you," she smiled a bit.

"It is? 'Cause your roots ate comin' in," he nodded his head towards her's and gave her a pointed look.

"What?!" One hand flew to her scalp while the other one went straight to her bag and pulled out a small little mirror and brought it up to her head to see if she could see any brown roots. There were none.

"I'm taking that as a 'no'," she heard him say, which forced herself to toss the mirror back into the bag and glared at the bounded man.

"What's your problem?" She asked before she could stop herself.

"Lot's of things," Joker shrugged, and then looked at her, "Are you the one to, uh, figure them out?"

Harley sighed, "I mean why would you do that?"

"Oh that was a test."

"A test for what?"

"A test to see if I could really trust you, and from what I've just seen, I don't think I can. You did not hesitate to lie about your hair colour, so how do I know that you won't hesitate to lie to me?"

Harley blinked at him and then rubbed the corner of her right eye. I have to be completely honest with him, she thought and sighed inwardly, this is going to be hard.

"I'm a brunette," she admitted, "I coloured my hair in freshmen year, and from then on I kept on dying it blonde because people thought I was actually blonde."

"So you've been, uh, lying since you were a lil ol' fourteen year old?" he rose an eyebrow and tilted his head down to look at her through his tangled eyelashes.

The doctor rolled her eyes and scratched her brow, "Everyone lies, Mister J."

He licked his bottom lip and blinked ever so slowly, "Touché, Doc."

She knew what he was going to say, or thinking, so she added, "I won't lie to you anymore, but you've got to understand that it's hard for me to trust you with my own personal secretes."

"Oh and why is that?" He genuinely looked curious.

"Well, add to the fact that you're known to get into people's heads and find their weakness, and I don't think a villain is a very trustworthy person."

"I disagree," he leaned back into the couch, "Villains are the best people to, uh, trust. Because you could trust them to be untrustworthy; it's the trustworthy ones you'd be wary about – since you wouldn't know when they decide to stab you in back."

There he goes again. Making sense like that; it was like he already knew her history with her ex fiancé. Someone she thought she could trust with every fiber of her body and soul and he practically left her at the alter.

Clicking her pen nervously, Harley looked down at her hands that were trembling a little bit. The image of waking up to an empty apartment all alone, and feeling utterly embarrassed with herself. She vaguely remembered her friends telling her that he was a complete asshole, and Harleen saying that she changed him. I guess now she believed the "once a player, always a player" saying.

No, she would never be humiliated like that ever again. Never let a guy use her like that… Like a fucking tissue.

But there she was staring at a man, a murderer at that, who asked her to trust him because he was untrustworthy. He was practically telling her that he was a dangerous individual. A warning, if you will. And the funny thing was, was she trusted him, because he was honest.

How fucked up was that?

The Joker watched her annalistically. He could see it in her eyes how many emotions she went through at that moment. Sadness, anger, realization, and acceptance, all in her eyes – it was all there. And she was trying to hold it all in. Well, that's just wonderful, the Joker thought, sneaking a little smile at this. She had her emotions bottled up, and that meant that it was only a matter of time before it starts to over flow or explodes.

However, Harley remained quiet; Jack supposed it was she was turning in her mind what she should say. For once, the Clown Prince of Crime decided to throw her a bone. "I think, I-uh, taken enough time as it is," he shuffled around in his sitting position, fighting a bit with the straight jacket. "How 'bout we-uh, begin at the start, hm? Seems appropriate."

Dr. Quinzel blinked, "at the start?" she asked, suddenly confused where he was getting at.

"Yeah. Don't you shrinks tend to start from patient's childhood?"

"I'm a psychiatrist," she corrected.

"Same thing, different title. The only difference is you get your paitents high on happy pills," he noted, and then noticed the growing emotion of anger in her eyes. Well there it is, the Joker thought gleefully. That little spark of anger showed him what Harley's weakness was. And all he had to do was insult her job. But knowing it was satisfying enough, he wanted her to trust him enough to actually tell him. Actually, he much rather her scream it.

He could tell that his doctor was just about to retort back in a scolding manner, but it was obvious she was re-thinking her words and not knowing how to say it. The Joker was so~ tempted to say "looks like you're going to need some happy pills yourself", but that wasn't part of his plan. Well, not really a plan, more so of an experiment. So, instead, he said…

"My father," his tongue swept through his mouth as if the word tasted awful, "used to beat me."

That obviously took Harley Quinzel off guard, since her face fell and the colour of her eyes changed to a raging red back to that sky blue. "Wh-what?" She asked, shaking her head a bit, not believing she heard him right.

"Prett-y badly, too," he added, breaking up the word 'pretty' and smacking his lips at 'badly'.

"I'm…I'm sorry," was all she could bring herself to say. She was shocked that he would admit that all of a sudden and so quickly. Was this a sign that he actually trusted her? Now, Harl, don't count your eggs before they hatch… She thought, waiting for the Joker's infamous laugh. Nothing. Wasn't he going to laugh at her for believing him?

No, he looked dead serious.

He shrugged, "Don't be. S'not your fault," he wiggled his body so he was now sliding down the back of the couch, and then shifted into lying on his back right across the couch.

"It was…it was every time I got out of line," he continued on and the sudden made a jolt with his elbow, which was only a pathetic attempt at making a hitting motion with his bounded arm. "BAM! Right in the face," he settled back into the couch.

Harley watched him intently, hanging off his every word, and then writing it down on her personal notepad. For the first time since she started to treat him, she felt utmost sympathy for the laughing clown.

Once again, The Joker struggled with moving as he turned and laid on his side looking directly at his doctor. "There was, I think, one time I ever saw him truly happy."

"Oh?" Was all Harleen could say.

"Mhm. He took me circus when I was," he paused to think, "I think seven?" He paused again, but this time he grinned followed by a giggle, "Hah, I remember the clowns, runnin' around with their pants down to their ankles," he let out a louder laugh at the memory. So much that he rolled over on the couch and fell flat on his face.

"Oh!" Harley sprang from her seat, placing her notepad on her chair and helped the sad clown up. But he wasn't sad at all, he was actually laughing. It seemed contagious because a smile spread on Haley's face as she asked, "Are you okay?"

He didn't give an answer, but she assumed so at the amount he was laughing. Helping him up by the underarms and back onto the sofa, she sat down next to him. The Joker then turned to her with a wide smile that actually looked…charming.

Actually, Harley hadn't been this close to the man, and the man was… beautiful. Especially his eyes, how the glistened with tears of joy. Without his make up, the Joker looked human.

"I haven't seen my father laugh so much that day," he continued on with his story, smile still glorifying his features. "So the next day, I went through my father's clothes, and pulled out his best Sunday pants, and put them on me," he looked at her through his eyelashes again, but this time straight into her eyes as if he was explaining something to a friend. A friend? Is that what the Joker felt what she was? Harley's smile widened at the thought.

"I went down to the living room where he was watchin' the game, and said 'hey dad look!', and pulled off the belt so quickly that it got caught in the zipper," he suppressed a laugh through his teeth, "And, and, hah, I tore the crotch right out of the pants!" He laughed loudly, throwing his head back onto the back rest of the couch. Harley laughed with him, though very lady-like, with her hand cupping her mouth and tears of laughter forming in her blue eyes.

After a minute or so, Harley felt the Joker's laughs slow down, but she couldn't see his face with her squinted eyes that were painted with tears. She continued to laugh until words were spoken.

"Then he broke my nose."

Harley gasped, instinctively keeping her hand on her mouth and eyes wide in surprise. She looked back at him, and he at her. His expression changed, though he still looked at her through lashes, which she now came accustomed to. Though he kept a smile on his face, but it was more gentle, and inviting, as surprising as this was to her.

In some dark corner of his being, The Joker felt something… something that was nearly unfamiliar to him. A connection? After all this had been the first time in a long while that someone had actually laughed, a genuine laugh, at his jokes. He didn't even have to cut someone's hand off and make an ironic statement. Though he hadn't felt this connection since…

No, this was getting too out of hand, he mused. So he tore his eyes away from her and shrugged nonchalantly, "That's the down side of comedy. Takin' shots from people that…don't get the joke."

Harley whipped off the tears that were lining her eyes, thankful that he wouldn't be able to tell the difference between tears of laughter and sympathy tears.

"Like your father?" she got herself to ask, still looking intently at him. Though he stared hard at the wall in front of him, as suddenly shadows covered his eyes.

"Like Batman."

* * *

**A/N: Hey, hey! To make up for being so long last time, I wrote this one hell'a fast. For my standards anyway. I have time at school while I'm at the library, so I just type most of it up, and when I have time over the weekend, I finish it up at home. Also, I apologies for the little OOCness with the Joker in this one. It's just, whether he likes to admit it or not, he does have feelings for Harley. Or at least I'd like to think so. In some deep dark corner of his translucent heart, he does have feelings for are favorite Harlequin, and sometimes he shows it without knowing, and most of the time he holds it back. AND, I'd like to point out that the reason why I'm rushing this is because this isn't ALL about the Joker! It's about Poison Ivy too! I don't want to spend so much time with Dr. Quinzel and Joker at Arkham, when they are so many more tales to tell about Harley!**

**Also, I was a little sad that no one reviews the last chapter. Like all Fan Fic writers, Reviews encourage me! Otherwise, I won't have the motivation to continue!**

**Happy Readings **

**Xoxox, Kat. **


	6. A Deal with the Clowns

**What's your Poison?**

**Summary:  
**Harley Quinn is taken to the Arkham Asylum and is surprised to find herself spill out her guts and talking about her life to an intern there, much like she was with her puddin' the first time they met… JokerHarley and a bit of HarleyPoison.

**Disclaimer:**** I don't own Batman, the Joker, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, or any DC characters, or the plot, since I am only following the comics, but I am adding some twists to adjust to the movie. However, I do own Lucy Hart, and her story. Also, the whole concept of this story. **

**A/N: Yeah I know, I'm taking more than I can chew, but this idea has been eating me since it popped into my head. I hardly ever do canon characters with anything, but Harley Quinn is my favourite female character out of anything, and I love her with Joker and Poison Ivy. **

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**Chapter Six: A Deal with the Clowns  
**

Lucy pressed the stop button on her pocket recorder. This had been the 3rd time she was listening Harley's story since the beginning of this week when she had her first session. Dr. Hart found herself more intrigued by the fact that the Joker opened up to the intern all the years ago, and hadn't opened up before. But there was something at the back of her mind that made her skeptical, that maybe what Harley thought she felt from the Clown Prince of Crime was all an act.

Tapping her pen on her desk, she thought hard. In two days time she will be having her next session with Harley, and it seemed like it couldn't come any sooner. But there was one thing she needed to know before she saw Harley on Saturday, which is, is that the true back story of the Joker? She needed to ask someone that knew him more than Harley. That actually didn't walk passed the insane exterior.

Batman. The question was, how was she going to get him?

A scream from a block away caught her attention. She looked out the window but only saw the tall buildings of Gotham. The city was… relatively quiet, but that didn't mean the Great Bat was taking a day off, right?

Slamming her pen onto the desk, she got up and picked up her purse. Opening the bottom drawer of the desk, she spotted a black pistol under a few sheets of scribbled on paper. Picking it up, she made sure they were bullets inside, and then stuffed it at the bottom of her purse.

There's only one way to call for the Batman without Commissioner Gordon's nifty bat-light.

Walking out of her apartment, she locked the door and silently hoped that nothing could go wrong, like actually getting hurt, or having Batman's cabana boy – Robin – come and rescue her.

It was about a 20 minute walk before she got to a street with rows of sketchy alley ways. Just perfect, all she needed was to hire one of these bums to "mug her".

Lucy stopped at one narrow alleyway that was – to her anyway – comfortably secluded from any other bums or thugs that want to join in on…the fun. To her delight, a tall lanky man in dirty clothes was huddled around a burning trashcan. He noticed her too, or rather her very expensive purse.

Saving him the trouble, Lucy walked straight up to him, which caught the man off guard.

"I'll pay you $50 to act like your mugging me," she said, getting straight to business. This caught him off guard even more. His fuzzy eyebrows creased together and he asked very slowly, "Why?"

She dug through her purse, and pulled out two folded twenty dollar bills and a ten. "I need to attract attention to a certain someone," she explained.

"Y'mean," he almost stuttered, "The Bat?"

Lucy nodded, "I need to ask him something, and it's not like I have my own little Bat-light to get his attention."

But the bum shook his head feverishly, "N-no, can't do that, miss. Th-the Bat, he'd kill me!"

Lucy rolled her eyes, "He won't kill you he would probably just injure you really badly."

The bum shook his head more, "Sorry, miss, can't do that." And with that he turned away from her and walked down the street away from her.

"You lookin' for The Bat?" Someone said from behind her.

Lucy turned around, but instead of a pair of eyes, she met a very wide and muscular chest. She tilted her head up and looked up to see a face of a white male with a head shaved down to his scalp.

"I am," she said, narrowing her eyes a bit, a little suspicious. "Why?"

"There's going to be a gang war on 10th and Barondale. No doubt he'll be there. If you're trying to attract attention to yourself in a slum like this, it ain't gonna work."

"And what do you want out of this?"

A grin that Lucy felt very nervous about appeared on his face.

"You work for the Joker?" She hissed as she was brought into a warehouse were a bunch of men wearing clown masks were sitting around playing with their guns. The skinhead just grinned.

He ignored her, "I've recognized you from the papers – you're Harley Quinn's doctor."

"Yes," she said slowly, getting annoyed.

"Well, the boss wants her out," he informed, "I think you could help us."

Her eyes darted around the room, "Your boss?" she asked a little too excitingly. Seeing the Joker would be just as good as seeing Batman. "Is he here?"

He shook his head, "No," was all he said with no explanation. With that, Lucy's shoulders sunk. "We want you to break out Harley."

The doctor straightened up and looked up at the freakishly tall man, "What?" She gapped, arms crossed. She wasn't in the least intimidated by him. He might be a skinhead, but she was a white woman, so Lucy had nothing to worry about him conning her, or about to rape her, or what ever skin heads do to women of colour. And she did have a gun and had a black belt.

Add to the fact that she works with psychotic murderers on a secluded island with an often drawn bridge.

"You realize that I can't do that, I would get fired without a second thought," She finally added, trying to ignore the other "clowns" who were now looking up at her and their fellow henchman.

"And you realize that if you don't do it, you'll be shredded cheese?"

Lucy frowned when she heard the rest chuckle at the large man, "I'm not going to help her break out," she said firmly, and the chuckles stopped.

"The boss won't like that," he lowered his head so he could get a good look at her.

"Why does your boss care so much? I thought she was just a henchwoman to him, that he could just replace her," Lucy asked, now with her hands on her hips.

He just shrugged, "Look, lady, no one knows what the hell is on this guy's mind. All we know's is that he wants her back. Iunno, maybe she has something of his, or somethin', why are you askin' me?"

Lucy put on a thoughtful look as something ran through her head. Maybe she has something of his? Did Lucy judge him wrongly just now, and the Ace of Knaves could actually…feel? There wasn't a real reason why the Joker would want Harley back; after all there are plenty of anarchist girls that are more than willing to submit themselves to the clown. Albeit, Lucy couldn't fathom why, but still there was a surprisingly large amount of barely legal girls that would like to jump his bones.

Is there a slight possibility that this monster has very human emotions?

Shaking her head, she looked back at the skin head and folded her arms over her chest, "I have a proposition."

He nodded his head, signaling he was listening.

"Since she is my patient, and I have grown some-what of an interest in her case, I require more time with her. I'll speed up the process, and have her legally sane by the end of the month," she offered.

It took a moment as the Skinhead and his fellow comrades looked at each other and all nodded, "Alright, sounds good. Nothin' messy."

"Good, but there is also something I want," she began, "since you pretty much ambushed me tonight, I ask that in exchange for not telling the authorities where your summer home is, I would like to talk to the Joker."

He snorted, "You want to talk to the boss? You gotta death wish or something, lady?"

"It's Hart, and I just might have one. So do we have a deal?" She stuck out her hand, feeling confidant.

He looked back at his colleagues once again and then back at her with an extended hand as his enormous hand gripped hers. "Y'know, you are very brave for a little shrink."

"And you're pretty cowardly for being a freakishly large man that follows the orders of a half-your-size clown. And I'm a psychiatrist."

* * *

Lucy surprisingly got home without any problems. She never did get to talk to Batman, but as it turned out, she got something better. A chance to talk to the Joker, and she was determined to leave an impression on him as much as Harley did to him.

The intern walked through the halls of Arkham and took a quick stop at her office as she pulled out a bag of gummy bears for Harley, and a bag of Swedish berries for herself. She remembered how the Harlequin girl said she liked gummy bears, because you could decapitate them, and stick other parts of their bodies together.

Lucy had a bit of a spring in her step. Mostly because she felt like she was actually getting somewhere, especially since she just started. She thought back from last night, and then fished into her pocket that held a little piece of paper with a number on it. The skinhead (who's actual name was Vince) had written down this number, saying to ask for Vinnie when she called. If she called, actually; she gave him her cell number in exchange. After that, she planned on telling Harley this, so she could cooperate, which would make it easier to actually rehabilitate her, if that was even possible.

She found herself in the woman's ward, and stopped at the only room with the plate glass covered and a guard just in front of it.

"Good afternoon, Dr. Hart," the guard said with a nod of his head, which Hart mimicked.

"Nice to see you, Andrew. How is she today?"

He shrugged, "Same as always. Hyperactive, crazy… she developed a biting habit over the week."

"Lovely," Lucy said almost grimly, but then flashed him a smile. "Well, then, I guess I'll see you later."

They bid their goodbyes, and the doctor helped herself inside the room, locking it behind her. She turned around and there she was, a bubbly 30 year old kid bouncing up and down on the mattress of her springy bed.

"Lulu!" The Harlequin squealed the bounced off of her bed in an impressive flip. She took Lucy by surprise as she swung her arms around her rigid body in a bone-crushing hug.

"Air," Lucy wheezed, and was glad when Harley pulled away and smiled sheepishly. Then, the intern dug into her bag and pulled out the bag of gummy bears, and tossed it to her patient.

"Eee!" Harley squealed again, "Thank ya', doctah H!"

Lucy smiled as she watched Harley jump into her chair in front of the desk like last week. The doctor dug through her purse and switched on the pocket recorder, then pulled out the bag of Swedish berries for herself.

Still watching Quinn intently, Lucy sat down and munched on her own snack, playing around in her head how she was going to tell Harley the good news. Then, she figured, why not be blunt about it? After all, Harley was a blunt and bold person.

"Hey, Harl," Lucy said after swallowing the piece in her mouth, "I got some good news."

The former doctor looked up and cocked her head to the side.

"I met with the Joker's henchmen the other day—" She began but was cut off by Harley who pounced onto the table knocking down the chair in the process. "Didja see Mr. Jay?! Hm? How is he? Does he miss me?"

"Calm down, Harley. No, I didn't see him, I just met that guy, Vince," she said carefully.

"Vinnie?" You could hear the disappointment in her voice, "He ain't special. Not like my puddin'."

Lucy gave her a smile, "I know. But he did tell me that – well implied it more likely – that the Joker misses you."

"Rea~lly?" Her eyes lit up like stars.

"Mmhm! So me and Vinnie thought up of a little plan," she started, satisfied with how Harley was intently listening. "I said that I could get you out within a month, without sneaking you out or losing my job. I'll declare you 'sane' to Arkham, and then you're free to walk."

Another high pitched squeal erupted as she jumped on the table and then leapt over to her bed and continued to jump high in the air.

"But," Lucy continued, which instantly killed Harley's buzz. "In order for this to work, I'm going to need your full cooperation. I still want to help you, and I believe within the month, we can help each other out."

With a sigh Harley climbed off the bed walked towards the table, "Alright, anythin' for Mistah J!" She picked up her chair and sat back down. Then tapped her chin with a faded red painted nail thinking, "Now, where did I leave off?"

"His father used to beat him," Lucy reminded her, "you guys were laughing at a memory he was telling you."

"Oh yeah!" She crossed her legs Indian style on the chair, bit off the head of a gummy bear and continued, "That was when I realized, hey, he might be a homicidal mad man, but he is still human, right? I may not look it, but I am pretty bright, ya see, and after that day I realized that Mistah J was just a tortured soul, just tryin' to get a laugh." She shrugged, "that's what people don' get 'bout him."

"Harley, hurting people isn't something to laugh about," Lucy knitted her eyebrows at the idea of sick humor.

"Hey, hey, y'all laugh when someone gets kicked in the nuts, dontcha? It's the same thing! You keep lookin' in the mirror with a frown, that's all ya ever gonna see, get it?"

Lucy wanted to argue, but in her profession she learned not to get into arguments with psychopathic serial killers.

* * *

**A/N: I have a feeling that I am going to update every week, seeing as I always end up doing it through my spare and finishing it over the weekend. So yeah, if you hadn't guessed, it was in Lucy's POV. Keep in mind that ever 2 or 3 chapters, there will be a chapter in present time. This series, I foresee, will be pretty long, because there are a lot of things I want to cover. Like, we haven't even gotten into the PosionxHarley moments yet! **

**Remember people, Reviews make me go faster! I love them! More reviews, means better writing and faster chapters. **


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